Nights in the City
by AwfulAlliteration
Summary: Series of small stories, all following : ... Nights in the City. First involving Rod Ross and Mello, second starring Matt.
1. Humid Nights in the City

It was a hot night, humid and almost suffocating. The taste of city smog on his tongue and a constant stream of words, confessions, thoughts flowing out of his drunken, numb mouth made the long summer night seem a little less lonely. It felt like it wasn't the first time he ever met this man, this tall guy with a stiff looking suit and a wicked smile. It felt like they were best of friends, like he wasn't just some scrawny, arrogant kid walking along side some strange man down the side walk.

"I wanna know all about you, kid," he said, leading them into some rough, cigarette smelling bar, and it had been so long since someone actually wanted to hear him share his story, and after a few drinks the words were spilling from his mouth, stuff he'd long forgotten now front and center on his mind.

"You got a lot to say," the man said with a grin as they were back walking down that sidewalk.

"I know," Mello smiled an equally wicked smile, jumping right back into why he was the best, not one of the best, not above average or any of that other junk he refused to hear back at the orphanage, the best of the best. And he liked the way the man would smile and nod and agree.

"You sound like a smart kid."

"I know," Mello laughed, and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol talking for him or his honest answer.

And their walk soon ended, the street lamps fading further away but the night felt just as hot, in front of a shiny, fancy car that he knew must have cost a fortune.

"What kinda job do you have to afford something like this?" Mello exclaimed, running a hand over it, his perfectly manured oil black nails matching the color of it perfectly.

"You know the mafia?" and Mello snorted in response, "Of course! Why are you mentioning it? Are you a mafia boss or something?"

They both laughed at this, Mello laughing at his own words and the way his face was distorting in the sheen of the car, and the man laughing at Mello unintentionally guessing it correctly right off the bat.

But the man stopped laughing and snatched him upright, keeping a hand slug over his shoulder to keep him from teetering, "Are you drunk or what?" he laughed into Mello's ear, the hot air from the man's mouth on his ear feeling much hotter than the air around him, strangely.

"Yeah," was his only stunning intelligent response, completed with a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

"You want to help me? You sound like just the kind of man I want. You want to take down that murdering ass hole as much as I do."

And Mello paused for a moment, the longest pause he had took that night in his drunken, long speeches before saying,"Help you with what?"

"I am the boss," and the man's wicked grin was back.

And for reason Mello wasn't even shocked.

"You'll get a nice room, practically be treated like royalty. Lot better than that old orphanage you said you lived in. You just have to prove to me you can do it.

"I haven't even said yes yet!" Mello snapped.

And the man laughed before saying, "I know you will," squeezing his shoulder.

"Fine. This does sound like my kinda business."

And the grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Let's go. No need to waste any more time bullshitting."

The man slid into the car and Mello did the same on the other side, enjoying the way the hot leather seats felt against his bare arms.

"I don't even know your name," Mello said, as the engine roared to life and the AC started blasting into his face, blowing sweaty bangs off his forehead.

"Rod Ross," was the reply, complete with a grin he would remember the other man for.


	2. Lonely Nights in the City

Matt was completely and utterly fed up with staring at computer screens. Even though it was something he did often in his free time (along with staring down the television); it was the fact is was an almost constant, mind numbing stare at a screen that almost never changed. Watching Misa day in and day out was at first a bit amusing, but it turned dull about the time she changed out of her lingerie. And it didn't help that he was in LA, a large city full of places to explore, roads to drive, and he was stuck, sitting here watching Misa go out and have fun while he couldn't even take his eyes of the screen to take a proper bath. Mello's directions were: "Sit, watch, and don't move your eyes away from the screen," and he always seemed to have some freaky sense to tell if Matt had disobeyed that.

Soon, Misa finally went to bed, and Matt was joyous at the fact he was finally off duty for a bit. He went to the window, feeling the cool air on his face, tinged with the city stench of smog and the fast food restaurant beside the apartment, which was a scent he became to love as he stared out at the neon lights and dark sky overhead, imagining what everyone out there was doing. Did they have a bossy demanding friend telling them what to do for hours and hours of their day? Part of him admired Mello's drive, his motivation, and the other really didn't care. And he guessed that was basically how he always felt about something. He saw cars driving on the road underway, driving in a ever constant stream forward and backwards, and he wished he was out there, driving into downtown and finding little old fashioned stores or bars no one else in the big city had ever touched, but he knew that was going to be on hold for a long time. Maybe he could take Mello out with him, if he ever went out driving. It could loosen him up, Matt decided. The man was always winded tight, always ready to explode. And he remembered, as he walked to the shower, turning on the water as hot as it could go, hoping the junky old water heater in this apartment would speed up for him, that he actually hadn't seen Mello in two days. He'd spoke to him, of course, calls starting with Mello saying, "Have you seen anything yet?" and he would reply, "No, of course not, only thing memorable I've saw was Misa's ass as she changed," and Mello gave a dry laugh, telling him, "Get serious, you damn pervert. Lives are on the line. Ever that that ass you're ogling belongs to a damn murderer? She isn't just a model."

And he hadn't thought of that, so it was his turn to laugh as he replied, "No, you usually don't think about death when you're ogling a fine ass."

And the conversation ended soon after with "Just keep doing what you're doing. Hopefully that bitch's ass gives you something to look forward to in the next few days."

They said goodbye, with Matt forgetting to ask when exactly Mello would be coming back. And now, standing in the shower, water finally hot and stream gathering in the small room, misting the mirror, he realized he missed having someone here with him. He wasn't a particularity social person, but couldn't anyone get bored being stuck in a small, shitty apartment alone for so long? The silence was defining, and once he got out of the shower and wiped the steam off the mirror to look at himself, he realized he was lonely. Lonely and tired of being alone, his only conversations being brusque talks with Mello over the phone. He clothed himself, and went back to the living room, sat on the sagging old worn out couch, and turned on a console, one of the many he had laying there on the stand the T.V. sat on, hoping to get his mind off of everything. But, one thought remind nagging in his mind, as his fingers worked the controller and his mind focused almost entirely on the game, the thought that: Out of the all people in this city, was he the only lonely one?

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><p>AN: Wrote this very quickly, I'm tired and it's probably not the best. Wanted to make this thing like a little series? I just like the title "In the City", it sounds mysterious and I just really like it. Critique and reviews are very welcome.


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